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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766519">Under a Starry Sky</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesAndFrills/pseuds/RosesAndFrills'>RosesAndFrills</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It always ends too soon [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Heaven &amp; Hell get revenge, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Beta Read, Stabbing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:33:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,155</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29766519</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosesAndFrills/pseuds/RosesAndFrills</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Aziraphale and Crowley thought they could live their lives together in peace now that the Apocalypse was over.<br/>Heaven and Hell have other plans and after their initial shock, they decide to go after the traitors once again, this time more successfully.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>It always ends too soon [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2194581</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Under a Starry Sky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I'm sorry. (Kinda)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The world around him was pitch black, meaning he must have been miles from civilization. It allowed him to actually see the stars in the sky above. Even the Milkyway was visible in all its beauty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley couldn’t remember when he had last seen it in person. He’d moved to London such a long time ago and big cities always brought with them enough light to drown out all but the brightest of stars, especially in the last few centuries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he hadn’t seen any reason to leave since Aziraphale had never left either. No, he really didn’t want to think about him at the moment. That would mean facing the truth of his situation. Better to enjoy the view stretching above him and pretend everything would turn out alright again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had always loved the night sky, after all, his own creations were among the sparkling dots. They were his reminder that he did something beautiful, once. He was glad he could see them one last time in all their glory, at least as much of it as one could see from Earth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was only one thing, or rather one person missing for him to call himself happy with how he spent his last night in existence. No, he had to keep concentrating on the positive parts of this situation or he would quickly lose his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He supposed that he was lucky to have crashed where he had, even if he wasn’t sure where exactly that was. He was definitely lying on sand, the grains digging into his back and burying themselves in his feathers and hair. Getting them out again would be a time-consuming nightmare. Good thing he wouldn’t have to worry about that, wouldn’t have to worry about anything soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back on track. So, sand, that meant desert, probably, since he couldn’t hear or smell an ocean to a potential beach. Maybe America? He felt like he might have crossed the Atlantic while trying to get away, but he couldn’t say. Maybe he even made it to Australia somehow. Wouldn’t that be great? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had never actually gotten around to visit that particular continent. He was pretty sure Aziraphale hadn’t either. That would have been something great for them to experience together for the first time. Well, it was too late now, better not to think of lost opportunities.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, he lifted his hand to the wound on his side. It was still bleeding sluggishly onto the ground, soaking the sand. When he held his slightly trembling hand up to his face, he couldn’t make out whether the blood on it was red or black in the darkness, not that he needed any confirmation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If it was only his corporation that was bleeding, he would be up and about again already, on his way to find Aziraphale. No, there were no good thoughts lying in the direction his brain wanted to take him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to turn enough to maybe make out the state his wings were in. This sent a fresh jolt of pain through the right one which had cracked when he had hit the ground. He quickly dropped his head back into the sand, once more looking up at the stars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had almost grown numb to the pain before disturbing the wing again. Well, at least this was pain he could deal with. After all, this wasn’t the first time he had been unceremoniously dropped from a high place, destroying his wings in the process. And it mercifully distracted him from the far greater pain his wandering thoughts brought him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered whether Aziraphale had broken something. He hoped not. The angel might have been a warrior, once, but he wasn’t used to pain, not like a demon was. He couldn’t force himself to not think about the angel anymore. His angel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he could at least distract himself with happy memories. Distract himself from the look of terror on his love’s face as he plummeted from the sky, shirt already soaked in golden blood from the wound in his chest while the demons with their damned weapons looked on in satisfaction.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crowley had been unable to get to him, the angels that pursued him making sure he could only try to get away as fast as possible, lest he fly directly into their swords. He’d planned to go back, to save Aziraphale, to heal him somehow, as soon as he’d lost them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, his biggest regret was continuing to run. He should have just gone after Aziraphale. At least they would have been together. He could have told him how much he loved him one last time. Or a thousand times, rather. As many times as his dying body would allow, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Right, happy memories. He wanted to remember those. He thought back on the apocalypse, how happy they had been after, how they had thought they were safe after their failed executions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had lasted a while, long enough for them to confess their feelings over wine shared in the backroom of the bookshop one night. Long enough for Crowley to consider selling his flat, because he never spent much time there anymore anyways. He had only kept it as a place for his plants. Now, they would die as well, with no one there to take care of them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those were the memories he tried to concentrate on, but eventually, his mind would always reach the end of their months spent together. Because of course they hadn’t lasted long enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not long enough to have that picnic they had planned. Not long enough to make true on their plan to move to the South Downs. Simply not long enough, because after about a year, Heaven and Hell had decided to join forces once more, to try a new approach to get rid of the traitors.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not wanting to think about his former employers any longer, he began to wonder whether there was an afterlife for demons. Officially, there wasn’t. They weren’t humans, after all, so death was permanent. But God worked in mysterious ways, didn’t She? Humans weren’t sure about their afterlife either. So maybe She simply didn’t tell them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That thought didn’t comfort him as much as he thought it probably should have, because he was certain of one thing. If there was some place waiting for him, it wasn’t the same as the one waiting for Aziraphale. They were an angel and a demon after all, and the Almighty had always been very keen on separating good and evil from one another in the final strokes of Her Great Plan. When one side must triumph over the other, there was no sense in just throwing them back together later.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked back up at the stars one final time before closing his eyes, his eyelids heavy already,  hoping to just go to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yes, he thought, maybe nothingness would be better. </span>
</p>
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